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Mike Bianchi: NBA = No Big Adjustment



     


                                  MIKE BIANCHI

                                  
                                  Wednesday, November 4, 1998

                                  Story last updated at 11:33 p.m. on Tuesday,
                                  November 3, 1998

                                  NBA: No Big Adjustment

                                  The NBA did not tip off its season last night as
                                  regularly scheduled, and you know what? I didn't
                                  even notice. There are few things in sports that
                                  matter less to me than when the NBA tips off its
                                  season: The Iditarod, the Tour De France, Greg
                                  Larson's opinions and rotisserie league baseball
                                  come to mind.

                                  My official response to the NBA announcing last
                                  week that it was canceling its November schedule
                                  because of the ongoing labor dispute between
                                  owners and players. . . . I didn't even know the
                                  NBA season started in November. In fact, I'm all
                                  for wiping out the months of December-May, too.
                                  And while you're at it, fellas, just go ahead
                                  and take the season off. We'll catch you next
                                  year.

                                  Question: Is it a lockout if nobody cares?

                                  It used to be I would become legitimately angry
                                  and indignant about labor strikes and work
                                  stoppages in sports, but, anymore, I can't even
                                  muster a good, believable feigned defiance. I
                                  don't get mad, I just get bored. Tall
                                  millionaires arguing with short millionaires
                                  over what percentage of your money they're
                                  entitled, too, is like sitting at the Yacht Club
                                  listening to two pretentious Ivy Leaguers debate
                                  the merits of a Robert Mondavi Cabernet
                                  Sauvignon vs. a David Bruce Pinot Noir. It's
                                  something most blue-collar Americans just don't
                                  understand.

                                  Don't get me wrong, I like the NBA, I enjoy
                                  watching it. But I'm not married to it. It's not
                                  like the NFL's cultural phenomenon that has
                                  grown to the point where fans around the country
                                  build their Sunday schedule around what games
                                  are on TV. To me, the NBA is like golf. If it's
                                  on TV Sunday afternoon, I'll watch it. If it's
                                  not - click! - I'll be just as content turning
                                  to a Bonanza rerun.

                                  If I've said it once, I've said it a million
                                  times: This is where sports owners and athletes
                                  always make their big mistake - by thinking they
                                  actually matter in some substantial way. Sure,
                                  it would have been fun last night watching Shaq
                                  dunk or M.J. wagging his tongue and burying a
                                  fall-away jumper, but - click! - look, Xena:
                                  Warrior Princess. Be-tween renting movies,
                                  surfing the Web and the smorgasbord of cable
                                  stations, it will be months before anybody
                                  really notices the NBA is MIA.

                                  Think about it: We have football through
                                  January, which takes us into the monthlong
                                  buildup for college basketball's March Madness.
                                  And when that's over, baseball season starts and
                                  the hockey playoffs are underway. And then
                                  there's golf and NASCAR and, hey, maybe I'll
                                  join that bowling league at work.

                                  Believe me, even those fans in NBA cities will
                                  learn quickly that life without pro basketball
                                  isn't so bad. In fact, they might even realize
                                  it's kind of nice not spending $350 for a family
                                  of four to go see the Clippers play the Nuggets.

                                  That's what happened to baseball, you know. The
                                  players came back from the 1994 strike, but many
                                  fans never really did. The sport's spin doctors
                                  will tell you the McGwire-Sosa home run chase
                                  fully returned the grand old game to America's
                                  good graces. Yeah, then why was this year's
                                  World Series the lowest-rated ever?

                                  But, of course, the NBA players and owners are
                                  so busy arguing over their obscene profits that
                                  they cannot hear our resounding silence. They
                                  cannot fathom how little we care about their
                                  perceived problems.

                                  Knicks center Patrick Ewing, a man who makes a
                                  guaranteed salary of $20 million a year, says of
                                  the labor dispute: ''We're fighting for our
                                  livelihood. We cannot survive if we sign this
                                  [proposed] contract.''

                                  How about we organize a canned-food drive for
                                  the Penny Hardaway Relief Fund?

                                  Oh, the NBA players are suffering mightily, all
                                  right. In a report in the New York Times last
                                  week, Boston's Kenny Anderson said he may have
                                  to go without during these economically strapped
                                  times. That's right, because of the work
                                  stoppage, Anderson is considering selling one of
                                  his eight luxury automobiles.

                                  ''I've got to get tight,'' Anderson said. ''. .
                                  . I might have to get rid of the Mercedes.''

                                  That means the Porsche Carrera would have to go
                                  on only six days rest. Can it possibly be done?

                                  What the NBA lockout boils down to is a few
                                  hundred men fighting over a few billion dollars.
                                  And when they're done fighting, maybe I'll watch
                                  their games, maybe I won't.

                                  It all depends on what Bonanza rerun is on.

                   

                                                    © The Florida
                                                  Times-Union 1998